


Gag Gift

by Yosei



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkward Crush, Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkwardness, Bottom Derek, Caught, Crushes, Derek Being an Idiot, Dildos, First Kiss, First Time, Funny Stiles, Gag Gift, Idiots in Love, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation Interruptus, Oblivious Stiles, Pack Dynamics, Porn, Porn With Plot, Secret Crush, Sourwolf Derek Hale, SterekFest, Stiles Stilinski Being an Idiot, Versatile Derek Hale, Versatile Sterek, Versatile Stiles Stilinski, sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 22:25:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7193300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yosei/pseuds/Yosei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles thought it would be a great idea to get his crush, the team's very own sourwolf, a gag birthday gift to bring a smile to his mopey face. Little did Stiles know that Derek was actually going to try to use it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gag Gift

**Author's Note:**

> I'll update when I can, but I'm feeling really depressed right now so I don't know how that will go. I hope you guys like this fic anyway.

Stiles had put a lot of thought into his gift for Derek's birthday. Although 'a lot of thought' might have been something a little closer to 'obsessive internet searches until he found what he was looking for,' but that's besides the point, because just a week after purchase, a discreet, rectangular, brown box arrived on his doorstep. Stiles was relived his dad was working late today so he could wrap his totally sincere gift in the most colorful packaging and paper that he could find. 

-+-+-+-

Six days later, the pack gathered at (broke into) Derek's loft and set up streamers, confetti, paper hats, snacks, and a giant cake. They couldn't really surprise their alpha, unless they used possibly harmful supernatural means to block his senses, so they just waited for him to come home from work at the station.

When Derek came in he was only slightly bewildered by the round of young werewolves and two humans, decked out in party hats, scream-singing “Happy Birthday” while pulling the strings of various poppers. For a second it looked like the alpha was just going to walk right back out of the loft so Erica and Jackson grabbed his arms and dragged him over to the couch as Allison locked the door for good measure.

There was cake, ridiculous games, a mushy-sweet Skype call to Derek's sister, Cora, in New York and presents! Scott, Allison, Boyd and Isaac were the only ones to really give Derek something he might have liked or needed. Deaton had, through Scott, given Derek a rare antidote for one poisonous creature or another. Scott and Stiles' parents had taken Derek out for lunch, more of a gift for helping and protecting their kids and Beacon Hills. But everyone else was in the gag gift mood. 

Erica and Jackson had gotten him a tasteful set of coffee mugs with lovely sayings like “Screw you” or “My bite is A LOT worse than my bark” and “Do I look like a fucking people person to you,” etc. Stiles liked it, especially the “grumpy old man” one and all of the dog pun mugs, but it didn't really have the right shock value or pizazz. Stiles was shooting for the gold.

Finally, after decades in Stiles' opinion, Derek picks up the superfluously decorated box with a raised eye-brow at the human who was nearly bouncing up and down in excitement. The alpha's eyes slid toward Scott, but the younger alpha just gave a shrug.

“He wouldn't even tell me, dude.” Scott elbowed Stiles a little harsher than necessary, probably irritated Stiles broke some bro-code rule by keeping the secret, but that didn't slow down the excited bouncing in the least.

“Just open it!” Stiles blurted, but Derek continued to take his precious time. The alpha moved the box from his lap to the couch so if something jumped out it wouldn't get on him at least. The box was flamboyant with at least fifty stupid cheap bows stuck all over it. It wasn't heavy per say, but it had a weight to it that made Derek think twice about picking it up with just one hand. After slicing through the various knot of ribbons with a claw, he gently flipped open the lid with a finger. There was no paint, or fire, or glitter (Stiles' favorite), just a bunch of colorful paper that matched the odd coloring of the box. Derek couldn't see anything under the paper and he hesitated to just stick his arm into the unknown. “Come on, Derek! You're a sour-wolf not a sour-wuss-” Derek growls at him but digs a hand into the box nonetheless and feels something cylindrical, but then he registers that it feels an awful lot like a...

“Really?” Derek asks as he hefts a fucking thirteen inch skin-colored dildo out of the box. “Really, Stiles?” he growls out. Stiles makes a high-pitched sound because he is definitely in tears trying not to laugh, but Erica ends up being the one who breaks the silence first with a loud snort that sets all the betas off into a laughing fit that echos off the walls in every damn part of the loft. Erica is laughing so hard she's practically being held up by Boyd, Isaac and Jackson fell off the couch and started cackling on the floor, Allison is politely trying to hide her laughter in Scott's shirt while the true alpha and Stiles laugh outright. Derek just rolls his eyes dropping the offending thing back in the box and wondered how he got stuck with a bunch of idiot kids for a pack.

The party ends soon after because Derek still has to go to work at station the next morning. The pack tries to take him out for drinks, but he refuses because 1) none of them are old enough to drink anyway and 2) it has only been a couple weeks since he joined the force and he will not be late when some of the other officers still view him as a possible murder suspect. So he pushes the reluctant pups out and cleans up the loft before getting ready for bed. When he's in the sheets, his heavy eyelids almost closed, he spots the hideously colored box still sitting on the couch and vows that he'll burn the whole thing after work.

-+-+-+-

It's Derek's full off day before he knows it and he's feeling in a pleasant mood considering that no one has been maimed or killed or tried to maim or kill his pack in the last few weeks. After his morning run, Derek walks into his empty loft exhausted and ready to just shower and pass out until lunch. He walks over to his closet to grab fresh clothes when he notices the glaringly brightly colored box from his birthday. He had been so busy, staying up until ridiculous times managing paperwork, small crimes, his pack, and setting up defenses around the town with Deaton, that he had forgotten to get rid of the ridiculous gag gift that Stiles had gotten him. He threw the box by his bed so he'd remember it or trip over it and went into the bathroom to shower. 

With the hot water blasting along his shoulders, Derek did what most people did in the shower and thought about his life problems. Okay, so he thought about Stiles. The thin, awkward, clumsy teen that had somehow worked his way under Derek's skin. He didn't really even know how the odd affection for him had started. At first, he was just generally ready to rip the kids throat out for being so damn annoying, but after months of saving each others asses from whatever went bump in the night, Derek had started to even respect the hyperactive ball of energy. And with all the times that he and Stiles had gotten into rather compromising situations (check being paralyzed on top of each other courtesy of kanima-Jackson) Derek had gotten lung-fulls of the teen's tangy scent. It was ridiculous that even now, Derek could recall it. Salty sweat mixed with a sharp spice that made Derek want to lick and suck and bite up and down Stiles' throat. It was ridiculous, but that didn't stop him from getting hard over it. 

Derek thought of the stupid gag gift that Stiles had gotten him and just for a moment, thought of the non-existent implications. Because it was all a joke, of course. But it still made the alpha think about what it would be like to have something inside him again. When he had been living in New York with his sisters, he had gone on a reckless streak, fucking and being fucked by various creatures. But it had been a long fucking time since then, and Beacon Hills didn't really have the right atmosphere for him to try to find someone willing to hold down a werewolf, much less now since he became an alpha. Derek ignores his straining cock and reaches behind himself, firmly pressing his fingertips against his hole and grunts because he's fucking tight.

It's been a long time since he felt safe enough to finger himself, but he still has a bottle of “lotion” sitting innocently next to the body wash. He opens up the bottle and slicks up his fingers before sliding them down his crack and trying again. It's a lot easier with the lube substitute and soon enough he's shoving three fingers inside of himself and stroking his cock and groaning because he can still smell Stiles and he knows exactly what his pretty, pale, long fingers have been up to. The teen fucks his own hands like he's just figured out what masturbating is and he always smells like salty cum and while the alpha side is reluctant to bare it's throat, Derek can't help getting off to not just the image of Stiles impaled on his cock, but also of the skinny teen laid over his back, biting at his neck and scratching at his hips as he fucks into him. And suddenly Derek's fingers just aren't enough, they can't get him there and with a pack of nosy teens, he doesn't keep any toys around... but he did just get one for his birthday.

Before he can think to hard about it and hate himself (even more than he already does for getting hot and bothered over a sixteen year old), he hops out of the shower and towels himself off quickly before walking naked into the loft and flipping open the stupid colorful box and hefting out the monstrous cock. He goes back to the bathroom and carefully washes it as his cock throbs. The dildo is long and intimidating, but it's not actually that thick and Derek doesn't plan on ramming the whole thing into his body anyway, he just wants to hit that nice little bundle of nerves until he cums, tightening around something. 

He gets into bed with the dildo and lotion and slicks up his hole better before returning his attention to the silicone cock. It's pale—which doesn't help at all to not think about Stiles—with veins running up and down the length and a flared head that makes Derek groan as he presses it against his hole until it finally pops inside and leaves him gasping. He keeps pressing inches of the dildo inside of himself, fucking it in slowly as he scrapes the blunt nails of his free hand down his chest in a path to grip his leaking cock. He imagines Stiles again, between his legs, holding him open and thrusting deeper and deeper as he stares down at Derek with dazed eyes and that pretty, pink, stupidly open mouth.

“Fuck.” he groans out between his fangs because he can really smell Stiles' arousal and sweat and... Derek's head snaps up to see the teen standing right there in the fucking doorway of his flat, wide-eyed. Because of course Derek forgot to latch the fucking sliding door when he came in.

“I guess you like my present.” he breathes out when his eyes lock with the alpha's.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
